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On the way back from New Haven we were driving along
the Housatonic. It was a beautiful day. We stopped to
have dinner but the restaurants at the river’s edge
turned out not to be restaurants at all but dark,
run-down bars with, curiously, no views of the river.
So we drove on to Newtown, where we saw many
cars parked around a restaurant that appeared to have
a Colonial atmosphere. I said, “All those cars
are a good sign. Let’s eat there.” When we got
in, we were in a large dining room with very few
other people eating. The waitress seemed
slightly giddy. David Tudor ordered some ginger ale,
and after quite a long time was served some
Coca-Cola, which he refused. Later we both
ordered parfaits; mine was to be chocolate, his to
be strawberry. As the waitress entered the
kitchen, she shouted, “Two chocolate
parfaits.” When David Tudor explained to her later
that he had ordered strawberry, she said, “They made
some mistake in the kitchen.” I said, “There must
be another dining room in this building with a lot of
people eating in it.” The waitress said, “Yes.
It’s downstairs and there are only two of us for
each floor and we keep running back and forth.”
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